What to Get a Malfoy
by Makoto Sagara
Summary: Harry wants to get Draco something special for Valentine's Day, but is at a loss. However, Draco knows exactly what he wants.


Title: What to Get a Malfoy  
>Author: Makoto Sagara<br>Series: Harry Potter  
>Archive: makotosagara/, /~makotosagara, , , , , , .com; anywhere else, ask first  
>Category: Romance<br>Pairings: Draco/Harry  
>Rating: MA<br>Warnings: slash, smut, some OOC, EWE, language, oral, anal, fingering  
>Word count: ~4000<br>Disclaimers: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Publishing, Warner Bros, and some other companies that are NOT me. I make nothing from this. In fact, I lose money to write this, so… no suing, 'kay?

Summary: Harry wants to get Draco something special for Valentine's Day, but is at a loss. However, Draco knows exactly what he wants.

Author's Notes: I decided that I wanted to write my own Valentine's Day/birthday gift to myself. (B-day is the 17th, it's only natural, I suppose.) Enjoy!

**What to Get a Malfoy**

What did you buy the Malfoy who had everything? Harry asked himself as he walked down the crowded streets of Diagon Alley a week before Valentine's Day. He faced this problem every birthday, Christmas, anniversary (September 3rd, thank you very much, Draco. No need to hex Harry and force him to the couch for a week!), and Valentine's Day. He always thought of something, and his lover of five years always seemed to appreciate anything that Harry gave him, but he wanted something different. Something special. Something unique.

For Christmas, he'd gotten Draco a new set of golden scales and crystal potion vials. Draco had gotten him the newest model of racing brooms, a Supernova. For their anniversary, Harry'd taken off three weeks from the Ministry, much to Shacklebolt's unhappiness, and surprised Draco with a vacation to the British Virgin Islands, where they'd indulged in alcohol, sex, swimming in the ocean, sex, the local food, sex, some slight sightseeing, and even more fantastic sex. Draco had gotten him a new wardrobe. For Draco's birthday, June fifth, he'd found out that the Falcons (still Draco's favorite British Quidditch team) had built a new pitch, so Harry had bought him season tickets – in the top box, of course. For Harry's birthday, Draco had learned to make treacle tart (even if he thought it was rather plebian) and bought Harry a set of lovely cookbooks. Last Valentine's Day had been dinner at a French restaurant Narcissa had recommended and a platinum torque to hold his beautiful white-gold hair back while he worked in his lab. Draco had gotten him a new wand holster and a lovely cloak with built in heating and cooling charms that could be worn year round. The fact that the cloak had matched his eyes exactly had nothing to do with the purchase of it, Draco assured him.

So, this year, he really wanted to out-do himself. The usual choices of flowers, candy, and jewelry were out. He'd get them, of course, because he always did, no matter what else he got Draco. But that hardly counted as the _gift_. A stop off at the florist's for the bouquet of two dozen white and orange roses with one single red in the middle. (Thanks to Neville and Hermione, he now understood that it was the single red rose that let his lover know that he still had passion for him, while the white and orange symbolized the other, simpler aspects of their relationship, the purity and desire.) Next, he stopped off at Etienne's, a shop that offered Draco's favorite chocolates from the continent, and picked up a box of truffles that made his teeth hurt just thinking about but that Draco would love. Then, he went to Claudette's Lapidary for the jewelry part of his expedition. And it was there that he was stalled.

Draco liked pretty things. Harry liked practical. So, when he bought his lover pretty gifts, he made sure they had a practical purpose. Even Draco's new beloved torque did more than just held his beautiful hair back. It would create a full body shield in case of a potion's explosion. The blond had teased him about his silly obsession with safety, until a potion had exploded while he was working on his Mastery creation. Evidently, a fellow Potions Mastery student had been unlucky while trying to create something new – a necessary step in their training programme – and Draco had been at the work station next to her. The unfortunate woman had to be rushed to St. Mungo's with burns and boils over eighty percent of her body. Draco had been perfectly fine, and that night, Harry had been rewarded with a fantastic shag that made it difficult to sit at his desk the next day.

So, when he entered, the proprietress, Claudette herself, came from the backroom and took his hand with familiarity. "Ah, it is my favorite customer. Mr. Potter, what can I help you with this year? And how did Mr. Malfoy like his cufflinks for Christmas?"

"He adored them, Claudette," Harry answered. "You were right about the emeralds, of course."

"I cheat, you know," she stage-whispered. "Mr. Malfoy had been in twice earlier that month to drool over them."

"Has he been in lately?"

The woman flushed a little and nodded. "Yes, he'd been staring at the chokers in the display cases for the last few weeks. I finally asked him if he was searching for something specific… He said that he was wondering about a quality… leatherworker." Harry felt his own face heat up as he nodded for her to continue. "Well, I directed him to my friend, Jonathan Bixby, over on Red Lane. He's discreet and efficient as well as good at what he does. I thought that you and Mr. Malfoy would appreciate that."

Harry smiled wanly at the woman. This was another reason he loved shopping at Claudette's store. While she remembered nearly everything about her regular customers, she'd never sold any information to the media, much to _Prophet's_ frustration. One reporter had tried to follow Harry inside a few years ago, and he suddenly found himself Transfigured into a chicken for the duration of Harry's visit. And the only time that a shop clerk had sold information to the papers, Claudette had hexed her with acid green hair that no one could get rid of or change.

"Thanks, Claudette." He looked around the cases and saw a beautiful pocket chain that he thought would go beautifully with an antique pocket watch that Lucius and Narcissa had given Draco for Christmas. "I'll take the platinum pocket chain."

"Shall I add it to your account?" Harry nodded. "Is there anything else you'd like to add to it?"

"Can you add an Unbreakable charm that would extend to any watch attached to it?"

"I'm sure something could be arranged, but it would take a few days." She tapped a slender finger against her lips. "I can owl it to you in three days, if you don't mind waiting."

"Not at all, but I'd like the address to Mr. Bixby's shop, if you don't mind." Claudette blushed and rushed to write down the information.

To say that Harry was not prepared for what he found in Bixby Leatherworkers when he walked in would have been a drastic understatement. The front of the store had the appearance of a store specializing in leather clothing and shoes, which made a sort of sense. However, when he approached the owner – a tall, thin, and dark man that reminded Harry strongly of Severus Snape, but less greasy looking - he was led into a backroom.

There were things that Harry'd had no idea even existed. Oh, he knew about the whips and the collars and even the gags, but there was something that was made entirely of leather in a blindly white color that made the black-haired man imagine it on his lover. His trousers suddenly became a little too tight and his face felt flush. Everything else was just too much for the relatively naïve man to comprehend, so he just blocked them out and turned his full attention to Jonathan Bixby.

"Well, I'd never imagine that I'd have not only Draco Malfoy but Harry Potter as well in my backroom. It's not that widely known," the man said with a smile. It set the hairs on the back of Harry's neck on end. "I assume that Claudette told you about it as well, yes?"

"Ah, yes, that's why I'm here," Harry said uncomfortably. "I was wondering if you could tell me what Mr. Malfoy was interested in while he was here."

"Sorry, Mr. Potter, I do not discuss the private affairs of my customers."

"I'm not here in my official capacity as an Auror. I'm off-the-clock, as it were, and I'm here shopping for a gift for Mr. Malfoy." God, he wanted to curl up and die. Draco had better appreciate everything that Harry was going through, or else he'd be sleeping back at the Manor with his parents for a while.

"Again, I'm sorry, Mr. Potter, but I don't share that kind of information about my customers. However, if you were to wander over to the far left wall and look around the mask area, you _might_ be in the right direction." The man winked and walked back to the front of the store.

Harry blinked owlishly before he looked where the man directed him. Then, he smiled slowly. Oh, yes, Draco had better appreciate this _greatly._

Dinner was set on the table, complete with romantic candlelight and the appropriate music charms drifting around the dining room of Grimmauld Place. Around the various platters of Draco's favorite food were strands of ivy, laced with great big dahlias. And in the center of it all stood the bouquet of roses he'd purchased specifically for his lover. To be honest, Harry and Kreacher appeared to have out-done themselves this year.

Speaking of the elf, Harry could hear him banging pots and pans in the kitchen still. Taking a deep breath, he went to find out what was going on, only to find the elf crying over dessert. "What's the matter?" Harry asked worriedly.

"Kreacher is just so happy. Master is taking care of Master Draco so properly that Kreacher almost does not wish that there were little ones running around the house again," the elf said between great big sobs that wracked his tiny body.

"Um, okay," Harry replied as he tried to figure out just _what_ his barmy old house-elf was getting at. He figured that it might be something that he'd have to talk to Draco about and that it would probably mean a total change in lifestyles if it really meant anything at all. The front door opened and Kreacher disappeared with a loud pop.

"Harry?" Draco called from the front hall. His voice, which Harry loved to listen to, sounded a little worried.

"I'm in the dining room, Draco," he replied, taking a quick look around the room to reassure himself that everything was as perfect as it was a few moments ago.

"You'll never believe the day I had-" The blond's voice died as he took in the room's décor. "What's going on, Harry?" he whispered uneasily.

"It's Valentine's Day, Draco. I thought we'd have dinner before we exchanged gifts." He raised a dark eyebrow as the blond frowned.

"I completely forgot. Childers nearly set the whole research room on fire again with whatever the hell she's working on. I had to have Kreacher bring me a new set of robes." He gestured to his pale blue robes, the ones that off-set his unusual grey eyes. They were definitely not the soft red robes he'd left the house in that morning.

"What happened to the others?" Harry asked politely as he pulled out a chair for Draco to sit down. He placed a kiss to his lover's hand before moving to the other side of the table and joining him.

"Smoke damage," Draco said, sounding uncomfortable. "Impossible to get out, even with elf magic, even if Kreacher wasn't nearly demented, so a total lost cause."

"Shame, they were nice."

"Yes…" The blond blinked his long-lashed grey eyes. "Harry, seriously, what's going on?"

"It's exactly what it appears to be, Draco, Valentine's dinner with my gorgeous lover."

"Did you spend all day cooking?" A slight smile quirked up the sides of Draco's mouth, and the sight of it made Harry's cock twitch in his trousers.

"Alas, no, Kreacher cooked most of it, but I handled dessert," Harry answered slyly, beginning to load up his plate with food from the dishes that covered the table top. "And there _are_ gifts after dinner."

"Well, this is no trip to a tropical island, so it must be something that you've hidden," Draco joked as his shoulders visibly relaxed and looked around the room again. "You've outdone yourself with the flowers this time. Tell me what the roses symbolize this time? And is this ivy?"

"You're correct," the black-haired man said affectionately. "The roses… Red for true love, white for purity, together for united love, and orange for passion and desire. Ivy for fidelity. Dahlias for elegance and dignity."

A brilliant smile broke over Draco's face. "You've been spending too much time around Longbottom," he said with no trace of animosity. "Although, if this is the result, I suppose I can put up with his odd Gryffindor-Hufflepuff hybrid-ness."

"Hybrid-ness? Is that a word?"

"It is because I say it is."

"Perhaps I should have skipped the dahlias and just gotten you some amaryllis. They symbolize pride."

Draco snorted and reached for his wine glass, sniffing appreciatively at a very good '93 cabernet Harry'd picked for their dinner of beef roast. "You already know that I'm proud. Dahlias are more appropriate."

Harry spared him an indulgent smile and they began eating dinner, speaking comfortably about their respective days, eyes locking occasionally for long moments. By the time Kreacher brought out dessert, a triple layer German Chocolate cake, they were ready to skip it and go directly to the after-dinner entertainment. Harry cut slices of the rich dessert with hands that shook with desire that only got worse when Draco's long, slender fingers brushed against his as he took his plate from Harry.

A seductive smile crossed his lover's perfect cupid's-bow mouth as he devoured his cake, letting delicious moans and sighs escape. "Harry, this is _divine_," he purred. "You've certainly outdone yourself this year. What _are _you going to do next?"

"This," Harry snarled, jumping from his chair and stalking over to Draco before pulling him up by the collar of his robe and kissing him roughly. "You're a bloody cocktease, you are."

"It gets me what I want," Draco said, obviously very satisfied. "Now, what do you want from me, my darling Harry?"

"You, in my bed, panting and screaming my name," Harry answered matter-of-factly, steering the blond towards the stairs.

"Oh, my, that's rather specific. I suppose I'll have to attempt to comply."

"Oh, you'll comply alright," Harry said with a wicked smile. "And I don't think you'll mind it either."

Draco shivered in anticipation. "Lead the way, my fierce lion."

After leading Draco into their bedroom at the top of the house, the room that Sirius had once used to house Buckbeak the Hippogriff, Harry ducked into the en-suite to dress for this part of the evening. He flushed as he took another look at the outfit he purchased at the leatherworker's, but with a deep breath, he began to get changed.

First thing first, he stripped down to his bare skin. Then was the thin strap of leather material he'd been reassured was a thong. It made him embarrassed just to look at it, but he donned it with little trouble. Next, the leather trousers were pulled on, the soft, buttery material the same blue-black as his hair. Then, the thin, sleeveless leather shirt was buttoned up, again the same color as his hair, but with emerald embroidery depicting two snakes entwined on the back. Finally, he slid on his new dragon-hide boots, from an African Ebony Snake – a small, endangered breed, and therefore the boots cost him a small fortune, but they completed the outfit.

"Harry?" Draco called from the bedroom. "Is everything alright in there?"

"Everything's fine, Draco," Harry yelled through the door. "Open the drawer to your nightstand. Two of your other gifts are there." He heard a delighted squeak, not that Draco would _ever_ admit to it, once the sound of the drawer opening and closing was done. "Happy?"

"Truffles from Etienne's? How could I _not_ be happy?" Draco purred. "And this is a lovely pocket chain. Platinum, yes?"

"I thought it would look well with your grandfather's watch," Harry answered, using the time to tidy his hair with a spell that Hermione had found a few years ago to tame wild hair, much to Harry's _and_ Hermione's benefit. With a gigantic breath, Harry opened the door to the bedroom and waited. "Hi."

Draco had been staring at the watch chain until the door opened. And then, he was drooling all over himself as he stood, his other gifts forgotten. "Merlin's balls, Harry, are those painted on?"

Harry felt the corners of his mouth twitch upwards in a slow smile. "No, I clearly pulled them up."

"Where did you get them?" Draco was running one hand over the shirt while his other was slowly stroking Harry's leather-clad arse.

"Bixby's."

"Oh," Draco whispered, licking his lips. "And you saw everything he sold there, yes?"

"Yeah, but I wasn't really ready to buy anything like that yet," Harry answered, feeling awkward and boring and wondering why someone like Draco was with him.

"Yet… Well, we'll work on that later." Draco's hand on his bum slid from one cheek to the next. "And you're not wearing pants?" Harry shook his head. "Oh, Harry, that is _hot_."

In the next moment, Draco was crawling all over him, his hands everywhere, leaving no inch of the leather untouched. "Want you. Want you now," he panted, rocking his hips into Harry's, showing exactly how much he wanted him. Harry let out a heavy sigh and leaned his head up, placing a small kiss to Draco's lips. Evidently, his blond lover wasn't happy with that and crushed his lips to Harry's while dragging him over to the bed. "Too many clothes," he whined as he continued to grind himself against Harry.

"Dra~aco," Harry panted, moving his hands between their bodies to begin unbuttoning Draco's soft robes. He let out a groan of satisfaction as his fingers brushed against soft, pale skin covering lean musculature. "Please…"

It seemed as if that was what the other man had been waiting for, because in the next moment, he was ripping off the leather boots, pants and shirt with abandon. He licked his lips as he stared down at Harry's exposed body and smirked at the tiny scrap of leather covering Harry's straining erection. "Well, well, what do we have here, Harry? A thong? How adventurous for you." He slithered down Harry's flushed skin and began mouthing the leather delicately. His pink tongue flashed for a few seconds as he licked directly over the head of Harry's cock. "Yes, I like this… _very_ much so."

"Draco, please," Harry begged, his hips bucking up as he felt teeth graze across the leather covering his foreskin. "Don't tease."

"But you make such _delicious_ sounds," Draco purred, pulling the tiny barrier away from his treat. "I hope to have you make even more."

Harry hissed as the chilled air hit his cock, but he didn't have long to lament the lack of warmth. Hot, wet, luxurious heat encased him, adding slow strokes by Draco's talented tongue. Harry mewled in pleasure, delighted by the attention he was receiving. "Oh, _yesssssss,_" he hissed as his lover gently sucked the tip of his cock and used one of his hands to squeeze his sensitive balls. However, when his hips bucked up, Draco pressed down with his unoccupied hand.

"Not yet, my lion," he whispered as he released Harry's painfully hard cock. He cast a nonverbal Summoning charm and an unfamiliar container of lubricant flew into his hands. "I have other things planned for you this evening."

"What… _oooh_… what do you have… planned?" Draco's other hand was still tickling his sac.

"This," Draco held up the pot, "is a new type of lube, made especially for you."

"Yeah?"

"Oh, _yes,_" the blond purred. "Now, would you like to try out your new gift?" Harry nodded, unable to speak as Draco went back to sucking him off. He could hear the lid on the pot of lube being taken off and was more than happy to spread his legs at Draco's insistence. He was expecting the fingers that were placed at his entrance to be chilled, but they were decidedly warm and only got warmer as they entered him. "Like that, do you?"

"Yes," Harry whispered, wiggling as Draco's fingers began stretching him. "More…"

Draco looked up, and Harry could see the wicked gleam in his grey eyes that promised more teasing. He moaned as his prostate was hit and his lover crawled up his body to kiss him passionately, all the while inserting a third and fourth finger. It became a battle of wills over who would control the kiss, but Draco won by biting Harry's lip and pulling back. "I see that you're ready, Harry. Are you?"

"Yesssssss," the black-haired man hissed as his prostate was abused perfectly. "Please, now."

"Gladly," Draco answered, removing his fingers and pulling off his robes, leaving him as naked as Harry. He quickly lubed his neglected erection and lined it up with the pink, greedy hole that was practically begging for his attention again. "You've spoiled me today, Harry. Let me do the same to you."

"Dra~aco, stop talking," Harry panted, lifting his hips so that he could wind his legs around his lover's backside, "and _fuck_ me!"

"Oh, I will," the blond responded, pushing forward and sighing in contentment as the head of his cock slid easily into Harry's smaller body. "You feel so goooooood."

"Stop. Talking." Harry punctuated each word with a downward thrust, forcing Draco further inside him.

Draco met him push for push until his balls brushed against Harry's thighs. He sighed again, enjoying the sensation of being completely engulfed in the heat around his cock. He pulled back, until he'd almost withdrawn entirely. He then thrust forward roughly, hitting Harry's prostate and dragging a low guttural moan from his lover. Draco used the momentum to set up a rough pace and smirked with each sound he dragged out of Harry.

Harry was in complete and total ecstasy. Every forward thrust prodded at his prostate and every pull out left a trail of heat. He was much more vocal than he'd been for some time, but felt too damn good to bother caring. He almost wished the house wasn't magically warded to keep everything from their next door neighbours. It would be a great story to share with their friends about having the cops called for disturbing the peace.

Although, one part of his brain was trying to figure out why this time was so much better than anything he could remember from the numerous times he and Draco had made love. Every time was great, that was true, but there… It had to be the damn lube. It had some sort of properties that he _would_ be asking Draco about later… much later… when he could get his brain to function properly again. However, if the blond could make more of it, Harry figured that it wouldn't matter what the hell it did aside from heighten sensations.

"Like that, Harry?" Draco asked between moans. "It took me three weeks to discover the correct formula…"

"Worth every second," Harry replied, using his legs to thrust up and meet Draco's motions. "'S brilliant."

Draco smirked, reaching between them to grab onto Harry's forgotten erection. The heat on his cock let the black-haired man know that there was more of the delightful lube on Draco's hand, and after a few pumps, he was covering their chests with his come with a roar of complete satisfaction. Three thrusts of his hips later and Draco was following him, crying out Harry's name over and over. "Happy Valentine's Day, Harry," the blond mumbled into his lover's shoulder as he collapsed, drenched in sweat and semen.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Draco," Harry replied, stifling a yawn. "I'm guessing you liked your gifts."

"Mmhmm." Draco placed soft kisses on the golden skin under his lips. "You liked yours too."

"How soon can you make more of that?"

"There's a pot in the study, the drawing room, and the dining room too."

"Merlin, Draco, are you trying to kill me?"

"Only little deaths, Harry," Draco answered, yawning himself. "Give me an hour and we can try for another."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Harry answered, wrapping one arm around his lover while Summoning his wand to clean them before falling into a light doze.

~ _Finite _~


End file.
